


Peace and noise

by venysri



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Angst, F/M, Hugging, Hurt/Comfort, Short One Shot, Subtle affection? Subtle affection
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-22
Packaged: 2019-03-22 10:20:27
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13762053
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/venysri/pseuds/venysri
Summary: "If you enjoy music, we have a guitarist whose talent brings tears to the eye."





	Peace and noise

**Author's Note:**

> she gave me this cute prompt <3

The soft rhythm of the guitar flowed ceaselessly in the night air around them. It danced along with the firelight from the braziers, flickering on the features of the gathered people who watched on in silence. Carol observed the guitarist with tears in her eyes — he was completely, utterly, _passionately_ immersed in his work, his music talking him on a magical flight elsewhere.

“What are you thinking?” Ezekiel whispered as he leaned in. She studied the crowd of faces watching on, transfixed, and shook her head. “It’s one of those things we took for granted. I didn’t know how much I missed the sound of music, as normal as it once was.”

“Indeed. Music it seems is one of the many commodities we must hold on to, to retain some era of humanity. As a wise Plato once said: _‘Music gives a soul to the universe, wings to the mind, flight to the imagination and life to everything.’_ ”

Tearful, Carol nodded with resignation. “Well, you were right,” she whispered. Then she met his gaze, “You said this would bring tears to the eye and it did.”

The king’s face was soft as he studied her. “What does it make you think about?”

The gentle strumming filled the pause when she looked away. She peered into the fire, she felt it was aware of her in some way, like it knew her secrets. Oh, how she wasn’t unfamiliar with that feeling, how she’d looked into the fire before, fixated on the flames with guilt coursing through her. “You don’t want to know.” she whispered in reply, and she stood up then, drawing attention from the others gathered around and an especially puzzled look from Ezekiel.  “Carol...” he began gently. But she ignored him and drew away from the gathering, leaving the accusing flames behind. She would go to her room and sleep it off, that’s what she felt she needed, a good, long rest. She was tired of the grief. Though of course Ezekiel followed silently behind.

Carol stopped in front of the door of the guest house and exhaled softly.

“I’m sorry,” he said, and she heard his light footsteps approach cautiously, “It wasn’t my intention to awaken something painful.” She turned around slowly and wiped away tears. “It doesn’t matter,” she replied with a tone of indifference. “It’s in the past.”

“In the past it might be, but nonetheless painful. I don’t know what bad you’ve been through before you came here, and maybe I don’t want to know — unless you tell me. But I know what’s done is done and you can’t change it, and I know it’s made you strong.” A tear rolled down her cheek, she looked away. “I’m not strong, I’m afraid.” she hissed with disgust. Ezekiel came closer, his face was softened into a sad expression, though still gentle as it was, concerned. She watched him wearily. “Is it not fear that makes us brave, makes us strong?” he asked.

Carol shook her head. “You don’t even know what I’m afraid of.”

“I might make a guess, but tell me.”

They stood looking at one another, Carol regarding him with a pained expression as a knot had risen in her throat. “A number of things,” she said glumly. “Killing people, loving. I can’t love anyone because I’m afraid of killing for them.”

Ezekiel was silent, keeping a patient gaze as though he was waiting for her to speak more. Carol sighed as she turned and starting fiddling with the door handle. “I just want to go. I need to sleep.” But she wanted him to stop her, to tell her she was wrong, that she needed to get over this, and that this was how things had to be. To tell her that she didn’t really believe this because after all, she came back for him when she didn’t need to. His approaching footsteps made her at ease, and with a slow resignation she stopped in the doorframe and looked up at the dark hall. Ezekiel didn’t speak, instead, his hand came on her shoulder — not firm, but gentle. The unspoken words in the gesture was enough to seize her with more grief, and she sucked in her lower lip and cried, head hanging as she sobbed in silence. He rubbed her shoulder affectionately and Carol leaned back into the touch, then finally turning so she could fall into him as he enclasped her form.

He hugged her tightly as she wept.

 

 


End file.
